trendpreneur

This change, which apparently happened last Thursday along with the retweeting API and other fancy things, completely passed me by. So that’s why I’m talking about it nearly a week later. The big news? Twitter’s changed its default prompt, the question that every tweet is meant to answer, from “What are you doing?” to “What’s happening?”.

I think it’s interesting. Many tweets bear no resemblance to the ‘old’ question — conference and sporting blow-by-blow commentaries to interesting links, pieces of news and gossip, questions to the twitterverse, and random musings. Some did, of course; the almost canonical ‘eating cereal for breakfast’ and ‘in a queue behind the most annoying woman ever’ type of message, the daily commentary on one’s life that, interspersed with commentary on the wider world, is what makes Twitter so fascinating.

It’s not carefully considered and drafted news tweets or observations on the best MLM strategies that make Twitter fun, it’s the unedited stream of pure human honesty that flows from our hearts via our fingers with nary a look-in from our minds. It’s the things that annoy us, the fact that it’s wet outside, the frustration that Jedward didn’t get the boot (or the disappointment that they did). Certainly from the point of view of data-mining, heartless though it may seem, people being… well, people… is an intriguing fishbowl to glance into.

The fact that most people basically ignored the old ‘question’ means that changing it probably won’t fundamentally change Twitter. It more mirrors, rather than propels, a shift in the way Twitter is being used by citizen journalists and commentators the world over — and an attempt to get away from the dogged old ‘breakfast’ use-case that even I trot out time and again. Maybe it will make people stop and think a little when they’re about to post some banality or other, though, and that saddens me just a little.

Edit: It’s also interesting that Facebook’s question is “What’s on your mind?”, staying me-centric; this reflects the difference between the two services rather well, I think.

I am a child of the Eighties, and as such, many things are true. One of these: as I grew up, learned new skills, figured the world out, and developed social interaction, computers were also growing up, coming into maturity, fadding and exploding and giving rise to the Internet and things.

I am a child of the computer age, and my generation is possibly the first to expect to speak to computers to do everyday things, not humans.

I am a child of automation, of Chip and PIN, of press 1 to pay your bill and of click here to continue. I am a child of Insert Clubcard Or Payment Method, of Oyster cards and of expecting the companies I patronise to listen when I complain about them on Twitter.

But I’m gradually rediscovering humanity, and you know what? It’s pretty cool.

It’s pretty cool to go into a shop and actually have a conversation with a knowledgeable and friendly assistant, instead of self-serve all the way to the automated checkout. It’s pretty cool to have a chat with the barista or the person next in the queue. It’s pretty cool to find out stuff about other people and to work my vocal cords, not my PIN fingers.

The best thing about treating other people as human beings, not flesh-bound robots, is that inevitably they treat you like human beings too. You want discounts? Faster service? Extra cream? Don’t act like you’re talking to a machine and bluntly order, have a conversation, become a person not Customer #18,284 and… magic really does happen.

I’m not saying there’s no place for robots (and automation) in society. It’s just come as something of a surprise to me, as my shopping and living habits have evolved alongside technology, and thus been encouraged to use these faceless machines at every corner — as my usual reaction in shops is to say “Thanks, I’m fine, just looking” — to discover the courtesy that comes with treating other people as human beings, and the undeniable warmth and connection that you get back for doing so. Better service. Better coffee. Shoes that actually fit. A five pound discount. All of these, and more, this last week — just by being a person.

I think this shift in behaviour has been coming for a while, but it’s been triggered by two things: visiting the US, where there’s a very fine line between irritating shop greeters with a fixed smile, and people who actually are amazingly helpful and nice even if you don’t buy anything; and doing a negotiation class, formalising some of my more instinctive behaviour when it comes to figuring out how to get to the nicest possible common ground.

(The trick of the negotiation class? Can you guess? Yup — listen. Work out their needs, communicate yours, and answers become clearer — most problems are in failing to communicate the needs, drivers, variables etc, not in the lack of a compromise existing. In the class exercise, this became scarily apparent. My instinctive reaction was to cover up my position in case it weakened me.)

So, next time a shop assistant says “Can I help you?”, and you’re standing there wondering which of five identical products you should buy, why not smile and say “Maybe you can!”. What’s the worst that can happen?